Seduction
by Desslok
Summary: Harry and Ginny find their way back to each other after the fall of Voldemort.
1. Prologue: The Final Battle

"Seduction by Desslok

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Disclaimer: There should be some sort of internet fanfic registry where you can sign up, do a blanket disclaimer and then be done with them forever. Charge a buck or two and send the money to the authors in question. I'd pay a buck to be done with disclaimers forever, wouldn't you? Especially if I knew it was going to JKR, though I guess she certainly doesn't need any more money. Seriously, can you even imagine being that rich? Ok ok, enough of this tangent. JKR and her publishers own the characters described below. I own a cracked old bowling pin I got at a birthday party at a bowling alley in 4th grade. You decide which you'd rather have.

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Prologue: The Final Battle

Voldemort strode confidently down the stone staircase, stopping on the ancient snake mural imbedded in the floor there. He smiled coldly at the dirty, disheveled young man standing before him. "And so, Potter, the time has come at last. Thrice you have thwarted me, but tonight it ends."

Harry Potter firmed his stance, drawing his wand and holding in front of himself. He met Voldemort's gaze directly with a roguish grin. "You've tried to kill me before, Riddle, and failed. Tonight will be no different."

"Kill you?" Voldemort laughed, ignoring the boy's childish attempt to provoke his ire. "You understand nothing, you insolent child. You will wish for death, Potter. You will beg me for it, but it will forever elude you. In your future there only lies eternal pain and misery. Tonight, you will watch your friends, your family, everyone and every place you've ever loved fall under my complete and total dominion." Voldemort looked over his right shoulder at his most trusted lieutenant, the one who had killed his most hated enemy. "Severus, show him. Let him watch as everything he knows is destroyed."

Severus Snape stepped forward, his hard and cold glare catching Harry's briefly. He waved his wand in an extravagant sweep across the air and seven silver clouds began to swirl.

"Now you will watch as my ultimate plan unfolds. You and your precious Order suspected that I would bide my time, corrupt the innocent, eat away at your world from inside, as I did the first time. You fools never considered that I would learn from past experience." Voldemort laughed once again as the seven silver swirls began to coalesce. "No, Potter, this war ends tonight. When the dust settles, none will dare oppose me. Now, watch as my forces decimate…" Voldemort raised his wand, the twin to the one in Harry's hand, and pointed it to the first cloud. ". . .the Ministry of Magic." He pointed to the second cloud, "Diagon Alley." The third was St. Mungo's and the fourth, Hogsmeade. He paused before the fifth cloud and took one step closer to Harry.

"The next two I selected specifically for you, Potter. As you watch the carnage and destruction, I hope you will realize that it is utterly your own fault. It is only through your association that these places will be destroyed." He gestured to the next and said "4 Privet Drive" and then the sixth, "the Burrow." Voldemort was so pleased, excitedly anticipating the culmination of all of his schemes, that he did not notice the lack of surprise or horror on Harry's face.

"And now, the best of all . . .," the dark wizard continued, poking his wand at the seventh and final silver cloud. ". . . the destruction of Hogwarts itself! That, I will particularly enjoy watching, but first things first." By now, the first cloud had cleared to reveal the scene at the Ministry of Magic. Voldemort focused his attention there, but what he saw forced his dark laughter to die in his throat.

Harry looked up at the scene before him, hoping with all of his heart that everything was going according to plan. 'Ron's plan,' he recalled fondly, remembering the way his best friend had seized control of their plotting sessions and demonstrated all the tactical and strategic brilliance he had previously confined to his chess and Quidditch playing. There on the silver cloud, rather than the surprise assault and devastation that Voldemort expected, was a pitched, but evenly matched battle. On one side of the Atrium, a group of Death Eaters crouched behind fallen statues and flipped desks, snapping spells towards a well-defended brick wall. Behind the wall, a large and obviously prepared group of Aurors fired spells and counterspells at their foes. As Harry watched, one of the Death Eaters gestured over his shoulder and suddenly a sizeable group of dementors swept into the room. Though he watched from far away, Harry could almost feel the chill and the despair that accompanied them into the room.

Just as all seemed lost, however, a figure stepped out of the shadows from behind a statue of a house elf. 'Come on,' Harry urged in his heart, 'just like we planned.' Just as the dementors noticed the young witch before them, she let out a hearty yell. "Expecto Patronum!" the witch shouted. A silver otter appeared in the air beside her, one with considerably more red in its fur than it used to have, Harry noted. The otter moved forward, sliding in and amongst the dementors, confounding them with its energy and its chaotic movements. Distracted by the patronus, neither the dementors nor the Death Eaters noticed the young woman's next action. With a practiced air, she pointed her wand at a block of stone on the ground below the point where the otter had herded all of the dementors. "Constrictus," she said clearly. Suddenly, the illusion on the block fell away, revealing a large wooden chest lined with silver and diamond. The chest fell open and beams of light sprang out of it, spreading out amongst the dementors, binding them, and pulling them down. Despite their ghastly struggles, soon the hateful creatures were all imprisoned within the chest, which then swung shut.

The disappearance of the dementors instantly turned the tide of the battle. With renewed fury, the Aurors sprung from behind their defensive wall and charged the stunned Death Eaters. Pride surged in Harry's chest as he watched Hermione blast the Death Eaters alongside the Aurors. Before he could see more, however, the image vanished. Voldemort lowered his wand and spun to face Harry, his face contorted in rage.

Harry interrupted what was sure to have been a wonderful rant by silently pointing to the other screens, his smile instilling sudden fear in the dark lord. Similar scenes played out at the other locations. In Diagon Alley, Remus Lupin straddled what appeared to be the corpse of Fenir Greyback as he led a group of werewolves, vampires, and other magical creatures. At his flanks stood Hagrid and Grawp with large clubs in their hands beating back the assault. Again, Voldemort dismissed the image.

The attack on St. Mungo's had been undertaken on a much smaller scale. A small group of Death Eaters apparently had attempted to infiltrate the hospital and steal or destroy the supplies and equipment there. In a dim hallway, Harry could see Neville Longbottom facing the strike team by himself. As the Death Eaters approached him, the doors on either side flew open. Green tendrils and vines swept out of nowhere and grabbed them all up, taking their wands, binding their hands, and choking them into unconsciousness. All but one, that is. The scene shifted, following Neville's flight up the stairs behind him to the upper levels of the hospital. 'The nursery,' Harry realized with growing horror. There, Neville found Bellatrix Lestrange, standing in a room before a dozen beds, each holding a screaming infant. Her eyes blazed with wild insanity as she pulled one of the babies into her arms and held it before her. Harry could not make out their whispered conversation, but soon saw Neville lower his wand. Harry knew he would have done exactly the same. Voldemort's mood improved noticeably and he turned to Harry with a foul grin. "I hope she brings it to me. So many potions require parts only found in an innocent or a newborn, right Severus?" Snape did not reply, his focus entirely on the scene at St. Mungo's. All at once, the standoff came to an explosive end. From the hall behind Bellatrix, two robed figures dashed, the larger one rolling to take her down at the knees while the smaller figure leapt into the air, grabbing the baby and holding it close as she rolled into a tense battle stance by Neville's side. "Now, son," the woman cried as the robed man tumbled to his feet at Neville's other side. Neville's wand flashed with a golden light, catching the prone Death Eater right in the chest. Harry saw no more as once again Voldemort dismissed the image angrily.

Quick glances at the next two clouds lifted Harry's spirits even higher. Luna Lovegood, riding atop a thestral like a Muggle cavalry officer, led a charge of battle mages into a massed group of Death Eaters on the streets of Hogsmeade. Tonks lay quietly on the roof of 4 Privet Drive, sniping any Death Eater that moved on Privet Drive while Moody and a squad of Aurors closed in from the rear. Harry's heart soared. All was going according to plan. The lightness in his heart gave him the courage to turn his gaze to the last two scenes. At the Burrow, a line of redheads stood in a grassy field, wands at the ready, as the Death Eaters approached from the forest. Smoking corpses of Death Eaters foolish enough to have attempted to apparate closer lay before them. As the first of the foe entered the field, great explosions went off. Harry laughed with joy as Fred and George high-fived each other. With Ron in the treehouse directing them, all the Weasley men advanced to meet the enemy. Behind them, Molly Weasley waited, ready to leap into any gaps and provide any additional support necessary. The Death Eaters did not stand a chance, and Voldemort knew it. His irate wave dispelled the cloud.

Livid, the dark wizard turned back to his young nemesis. "You may have foiled my diversions, Potter, but I have seen all of your allies, now. Your Order is accounted for, Dumbledore is dead, and my main force, my Inner Circle, will destroy that accursed school once and for all. And that will be enough to cow them all into submission!"

"You'd better look again, you great piece of shite. You've seen the Order in action, but wait until you see Dumbledore's Army," Harry replied grimly, even as the scene on the last cloud dispelled every fear in his heart. There, before the very gates of Hogwarts, stood Ginny Weasley, obviously in the midst of a rousing speech. As she finished, a great cheer went up. Through moist eyes, Harry saw her, shining in the night like the most brilliant star, surrounded by every single Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff student, even by most of the Slytherins. The Hogwarts staff stood arrayed alongside their students: McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn, Binns, Hooch, Madams Pince and Pomfrey, all of them. Argus Filch held a double-barrelled shotgun; Mrs. Norris perched on his shoulders, hissing angrily at the approaching Death Eaters. Peeves and the other Hogwarts ghosts floated about overhead, providing aerial support. With one final shout, Ginny gestured toward the enemy and all hell broke loose. It was as if the entire storeroom at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes exploded all at once in a cacophony of light and sound. When the smoke cleared, only one Death Eater remained standing, though he wobbled a bit. The long blonde hair streaming out behind his half-broken mask gave him away as Lucius Malfoy. Before he could attack, flee, or do anything, a smaller figure strode forward from the mass of students. Draco Malfoy hauled back and punched his father hard enough to lift him off his feet, sending him in a great unconscious heap to the cold ground. Ginny Weasley was leading the cheers as the last scene dissolved into nothing.

"You've lost, Riddle," Harry said confidently. "Your followers are defeated; your plans have failed. I will give you one last chance to surrender. Prophecies are only what we make of them, Tom. You can choose a different path. Give me your wand and stand down. It is over."

"Foolish boy!" Voldemort screamed. "Nothing is over. I can never be defeated, I who have defeated Death itself. I will have my vengeance for what has occurred tonight and I will begin by showing you worse pain than you have ever imagined." He gestured to the darkness surrounding them. "Nagini, immobilize him!"

Out of the shadows, the serpent slithered, approaching Harry swiftly. Poison dripped from its fangs as it reared up to strike him. Before the snake's bite could land, however, a figure darted in front of Harry. Nagini's teeth sank deep into Peter Pettigrew's flesh even as his metallic hand closed with a sickening crunch around the beast's neck. "Now, we're even…" Pettigrew whispered before the paralyzing poison overtook his throat.

"Traitor!" Voldemort shouted. Before anyone could react, he launched a death curse on his former minion, killing him on the spot. Once again, he turned to his lieutenant, his favored servant. "Severus, it seems it is up to you. I am sure you will enjoy it. Immobilize him and bring him before me on his knees."

Snape strode forward, drawing from his side a long, curved dagger. Harry could see the green ichor coating the blade as it glimmered in the torchlight. As his old Potions professor approached, Harry lowered his mental defenses just enough to send a simple message. 'You did what you had to do, Professor. I understand that now. All is forgiven, at least on my part. I hope you can forgive as well.' A chill ran across his arms as he added, 'She would have been proud, and happy to be your friend. I know it.' Snape's expression was impossible to read, to the point where Harry couldn't be sure he'd even gotten his message. At last, he nodded briefly before quickly spinning and launching the dagger into the center of Voldemort's chest.

Voldemort's eyes widened, as much from the shock of this final betrayal as from the pain of the knife in his heart. "Et tu, Severus," he croaked, drawing the blade out of himself. Blood ran freely down his robes, dripping into a puddle at his feet. Still, he stood. "You may have won this day, Potter," he said in a harsh, ragged voice. "But you still do not understand. I cannot be defeated. Oh yes, I know what you have done to my horcruxes, but as long as one remains, I will live forever." He looked down at Nagini's corpse, still entwined with Pettigrew's. "Your fool of a master thought it was the snake, but he was wrong."

"Yes, he was," Harry said suddenly. "Seven soul shards. One in you. One in the diary and another in the ring. The locket of Slytherin, the cup of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw's ring, and now the last. A living, breathing horcrux." He whistled sharply and a flash of red swept down from the rafters, dropping something at his feet. "Thank you again, Fawkes," Harry whispered to the phoenix. Reaching down, trying to keep the memories of Ginny's cold body lying on the floor of the Chamber out of his head, he lifted the Sorting Hat as he had all those years ago. "The last horcrux," he continued. "The Heir of Gryffindor. Me." With that, he reached into the hat and pulled out once more Gryffindor's sword.

"So you figured it out," Voldemort sneered. "Then you know that your weapon will do no good. As long as you live, I cannot be defeated. Your precious friends are too weak to do what is necessary. They will protect you and, in doing so, will ensure my ultimate victory."

"There is one thing you have always failed to understand," Harry replied quietly. "Dumbledore warned you of it long ago. I think he always hoped that you would finally realize the truth and turn from the path you have been on." Harry turned the blade in his hands so that it faced his stomach. Now was the moment of truth. He knew what he had to do. He knew how to do it. He just didn't know what would happen next.

Voldemort could do nothing but watch, as Snape's poison effectively paralyzed him. Blood continued to drip onto the floor. He knew that only the power of his horcrux magic was keeping him alive at this point. Slowly, realization began to dawn. Surely, the Potter boy could not be thinking of… such a thing was not possible!

Harry closed his eyes. He had spent months meditating, using the pensieve, contemplating this moment. He focused his considerable force of will inward, drawing forth every painful memory of his life. He did not seek out memories of the bad things that had happened to him or the ills done him by the Dursleys, by Voldemort, or the Death Eaters. Instead, he drew forth every instance of his own selfishness, his stubbornness, times he had willfully hurt others with his words or his deeds. He recalled every lie he had ever told, noting how often they were told to those closest to him. Every petty act of jealousy, anger, hatred welled to the surface. He brought forth every bit of darkness inside himself and concentrated it all into an almost physical lump in his gut. Harry knew that all of the evil inside himself did not come from the fragment of Voldemort's soul that lived within him; we all have some darkness inside ourselves. Still, he knew that the entirety of Voldemort's soul fragment lurked inside that lump. He was halfway there.

Next, Harry summoned from within all the happy thoughts and memories he could find. There were far more than he'd ever suspected when he'd first tried to practice this. Vague half-formed images of his parents rose first, colors and scents more than anything. Precious few good memories of his time at Privet Drive, mostly from times he'd been left home alone, followed. He called forth the love and affection he had for Hogwarts, for Hagrid and the rest of the staff there. He saw images of his classmates, students from the other houses, then those from Gryffindor, his Quidditch teams, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, even Dean. He remembered each time he'd caught the Snitch. He recalled the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes and Sirius's warm smile. Images of the Burrow and all of its inhabitants flooded over him. Already, Harry felt completely enveloped in love and happiness, but now he let himself draw upon the memories of times spent with his two greatest friends: walks in the gardens, plotting in the library, meals in the Great Hall, and studying in the Common Room. He particularly focused on his overwhelming joy that afternoon not too long ago when Ron had suddenly dropped to his knees in front of Hermione and asked for her hand in marriage. Harry was sure that only she had been more stunned than he. When she whispered "yes" through tears of joy and drew her boyfriend, now fiancée, into her arms, all seemed right with the world.

Finally, Harry drew upon his ultimate secret weapon. He thought of Ginny. He saw a young girl running after his train, peeking out of a doorway, or dipping her elbow in a butter dish. He saw a young woman flying confidently across the Quidditch pitch, strolling the halls of Hogwarts, or laughing with him on the porch at the Burrow. He remembered every word she'd ever said to him, every smile or tear they had shared; her hard blazing eyes as she crossed the Common Room and fell into his arms; her sad smile at Dumbledore's funeral. He recalled their stilted dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding, all of their longings and dreams locked down tightly. He read again every letter she had sent him, wrote again every letter he had sent to her, during all the long months they had been apart. At last, he remembered his most recent sighting of her, standing atop the barricades before Hogwarts with the school banner in her hands, exhorting their 'army' to their greatest victory. He loved her more than words could ever express. She was part of him, now and always.

Barely able to contain the overwhelming power of the love in his heart, all the love that he'd ever given or received, Harry Potter opened his eyes and focused once again on Gryffindor's sword. Slowly, he let that energy flow out of his heart and his soul into the blade, which soon began to glow brightly. Snape covered his eyes, but Voldemort could not and the vision of that great love seared itself into his mind, the last vision he would ever have.

Harry felt Gryffindor's sword quivering in his hands with all the power now surging up and down the blade. Carefully, he positioned the point over that point in his stomach where he still felt the gathered mass of evil and darkness. 'I love you, Ginny,' he thought, as he plunged the blade into himself.

---- Three Days Later----

Harry opened his eyes slowly, quite surprised that such a thing would be possible. He realized quickly that he laid in a bed in St. Mungo's. Soft, gentle hands placed his glasses on his face. Behind Ginny, he saw Ron, Hermione, and most of the Weasleys all smiling down at him. He touched his side cautiously. It felt a bit tender, but mostly fine.

Mrs. Weasley bustled forward and embraced him carefully. "You're going to be fine, Harry. You did everything perfectly."

"It's all over now, mate," Ron added, his hand lightly brushing away the tears that fell across Hermione's face as she stood next to him.

Harry looked at the shining, happy faces around him. Behind the twins, he noted Ginny standing in the doorway. She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eyes and nodded toward the bedstand. As she glided quietly from the room, he noted the scroll she had indicated, sealed as her letters always were with the red wax imprint of a kiss. He smiled knowingly and replied, "No, Ron, I think it's just beginning."


	2. Ch 1: Warming Up

"Seduction" by Desslok

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Chapter 1: Warming Up

For the last time, Harry looked around the dingy cabin that had served as his base of operations over the last year. He and Ron had found it in the woods behind the rubble of his parent's house in Godric's Hollow; it had apparently been a guest cottage and had been spared the destruction of Voldemort's attack. Ron and Hermione had already apparated back to the Burrow, leaving Harry alone to gather the last of his things. 'My most precious things,' he noted, cradling a worn cardboard box in his arms. Sitting down on his creaky camp cot, he idly fingered through the items inside: the photo album Hagrid had given him, little plaques celebrating his Quidditch victories and Gryffindor's house cup, the jumper Mrs. Weasley had sent him during his first Christmas at Hogwarts. Mostly though, the box contained letters. Harry had never received a letter before his Hogwarts acceptance letter, and even that letter had not arrived safely on the first, or even the hundredth try. After that experience, he had carefully saved every letter he had ever received from his friends. The fan and hate mail, of course, did not count.

'I suppose it's time,' he finally thought. He gently pushed the jumper aside to reveal a separate packet of letters, all bound in a red ribbon: the letters from Ginny. He had read them all so many times that the parchment would have long ago wasted away, if not for the preservative charm that Hermione had taught him. Read them all but one. He drew out the last letter Ginny had sent him, the one she had left by his bed while he recovered in St. Mungo's. He turned it in his hands, relishing the anticipation. He had some idea of what it might say, of course, but one could never be completely sure about anything when it came to Ginny Weasley.

Deciding to draw out the tension a bit longer, he instead began to re-read her other letters, from the first one that she had hidden in his bags when he departed after the wedding to the last that he had read, the one she had sent just before the final battle. From the first, she had set the tone of their correspondence. They never discussed their feelings for each other directly. There were few terms of endearment, just a simple "Love, Ginny" or "Love, Harry" at the end. Instead, she told him about her life, first in the Burrow and then at Hogwarts. She complained about her workload, discussed her trials and tribulations as captain of the Quidditch team and later as the head of the DA. She asked his advice on those matters sometimes, but not often. She had her own ideas about how to run things and he respected that.

For his part, Harry wrote to her mostly about Ron and Hermione. Ginny was quite curious about the progress of their relationship and Harry appreciated the outlet for discussing it. He couldn't discuss his own activities in any detail nor his location for obvious reasons. He asked a lot of questions and made shrewd observations about the things she mentioned in her letters. In the end, Harry realized it did not matter what they said in their letters. The simple fact that they each took the time to maintain their connection, despite the distance, said far more than words could. It kept them bound together. Ginny's letters reminded Harry on a daily basis of exactly what he was fighting for and why he would win in the end.

After an hour of reading, he had almost finished the stack. Her last letter before the final battle had broken with their pattern. For one thing, it had been hand-delivered through Ron, who had gone to Hogwarts personally to brief the staff and Ginny (as head of the DA) on what they had learned and his plan for dealing with it. Secure in the knowledge that it would not be intercepted, she had spoken in detail about her plans for the defense. Harry grinned, seeing the bold confidence in her words that he loved so dearly. While leaving her behind had broken his heart, it had turned out to be the right decision for both the intended and also some unintended reasons. In the absence of the Trio, Ginny had grown into a true leader at Hogwarts, outside the shadow of her famous friends and family at last. Harry paused in his letter reading to look once again at the latest addition to his box of memories: a copy of Witch's World Weekly declaring Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley "Co-Witches of the Year." A photo of Ginny on the barricades, her hair streaming in the stiff breeze, graced the cover along with the words "The-Girl-Who-Saved-Hogwarts." He'd never been more proud of her. He looked back to that letter, reading again the final words that had provided that extra spark he'd needed so badly: "All of my love, all of my heart, forever, Ginny."

With a happy sigh, Harry finally turned his attention to the sealed letter. He marveled as always at Ginny's skill with Charms as he lifted it and kissed the red seal. She had ensorcelled all of her letters this way, so that only a kiss from his lips could open them. He didn't know if it was the magic or his desperate imagination, but he always felt that the letters kissed him back, just a little. As he opened the letter, Harry caught a whiff of that unique flowery scent that was purely Ginny. He read it quickly, as it didn't say much.

_Hermione told me about your bet with my brother. _

_Good luck with that._

_--G_

Harry leaned back on the bed and laughed heartily, if a bit nervously. He should have known that she'd find out. Things were about to get very interesting.

------The next day------

Despite the late hour at which he had finally arrived at the Burrow, Harry still rose with the dawn, as he had nearly every day for the past year. He silently thanked Mrs. Weasley for converting Bill's old room into a guest room for him as he pulled on his sweatsuit and trainers without having to worry about waking Ron. He snuck quietly out of the house and began his daily jog, loping off into the fields and woods. Last summer, Charlie had shown him a great trail that went through the lands surrounding the house. As he ran, Harry let his mind wander to what had happened the night before.

The Weasleys, of course, had waited up for him, even though he had seen them at the hospital just the day before. He'd deposited his last belongings in his new room and shared a quick tea with the family. Ginny had seemed a bit quiet, he thought. Perhaps that was due to the late hour. She'd hugged him gently when he arrived and kissed him lightly on the cheek before bed. Truthfully, he'd been somewhat surprised. He guessed that she must not have minded his bet after all, since she hadn't reacted to his presence more strongly. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. It had been a very long time since he'd held her in his arms and kissed her deeply, after all. She couldn't have been angry, as one generally knew when they had pissed Ginny Weasley off. There had been an odd twinkle in her eyes, though, that he hadn't seen for a long time and he just didn't know what to make of it.

With troubling thoughts starting to rise, Harry came out of the woods near the end of his first lap. In the distance, he saw a flash of red; someone was standing in the meadow behind the house. As he approached, he realized that it was Ginny. She gave him a friendly wave as he closed in on her and pulled up, jogging slightly in place to keep his blood flowing. He needn't have bothered. The sight of her alone would have been more than enough to keep his heart rate up. She stood in green sweatpants and a white t-shirt, stretching her arms high above her head. As she stretched, the t-shirt crept upwards until it revealed her flat stomach. Harry stared at her, mesmerized.

"Good morning, Harry," she said in a friendly tone, far too alert for so early in the morning. "Mind some company?" She lowered her arms and settled onto the grass, spreading her legs to either side and leaning down between them.

Harry stood silently, struggling to find his voice. Merlin, she was gorgeous, and so flexible! Words caught in his throat as she stood up once again and bent over to touch her toes. She looked up at him with that same dangerous twinkle in her eyes as she stood, turned away from him, and bent over again. The sweatpants clung to her figure, outlining every curve perfectly. Unconsciously, he took a step closer to her, stopping when she rose again and turned back to face him. She gave him a challenging smile and said, "Well?"

With great effort, he regained control of his faculties. "Sure, I don't mind," he replied, proud that his voice only cracked a very little. Since she appeared ready, he jogged off, not waiting to see if she could keep up. If he had thought that running out ahead of her would provide relief, he was sadly mistaken. The images of her stretching, the taut, sleek muscles in her arms and her legs, her hair glimmering in the dawn sunlight, all had been seared into his mind in those brief seconds. Her beauty was an almost physical assault on his senses and his psyche. What had he decided to do? How long had he told Ron? Harry struggled to cleanse himself of his aching desire for her and refocus on his grand plan. He could do this. It was the right thing to do. As he came to terms with the situation, he heard the crunching of leaves on the ground behind him. Moments later, she passed him and he noted two things. First, she had removed the sweats, revealing lycra biking pants that he had never even known she owned. Second, he had no intention of being anywhere other than right behind her for the rest of this jog. This was going to be much harder than he thought.

Half an hour and five laps later, Ginny, followed closely by Harry, pulled up in the meadow once again. The two of them stood for a bit, catching their breath. For the first time since she had passed him, Harry's eyes left her. He found it hard to formulate a coherent thought in his dazed state. He'd known which muscles moved while running, but watching it in action had been something else altogether.

"Catch," Ginny called out, tossing him a bottle of water. She pulled a second from the pile where her sweats and a towel sat on the grass. He took a long drink and turned to thank her, but once again, words died in his throat.

Somehow, she'd managed to find a stray sunbeam. It illuminated her from behind, making her glow warmly. She had just removed her ponytail holder and as he watched, she shook her head slowly from side to side, letting her glorious auburn tresses fall free all around her. Lifting her water bottle, she closed her eyes and let the fluid pour down over her head, leaving glistening droplets on her skin and hair. With one sly peek at him, she bent over forward, brushing her hair out towards the ground and letting more of the cool water fall on the pale skin at the base of her neck. Standing again, Harry noted that some of the moisture had fallen on the front of her white t-shirt, making it cling in all the right places and teasing him with glimpses of what lay beneath.

He dropped his bottle.

"Thanks for letting me join you, Harry," she said in a breathy voice. "I really enjoyed it." With that she turned and bent over (at the waist, Harry noted painfully), scooped up her stuff, and headed back to the Burrow.

She was halfway there before he found his voice again. "Anytime," he called out in a pitch about two octaves higher than normal. She tossed her hair over one shoulder as she looked back to him and blew him a kiss, then she was gone.

"I am never drinking firewhiskey again and I am going to kill Ron," Harry muttered as he slowly trudged back to the Burrow. Dealing with the Dark Lord had been difficult, but dealing with Ginny Weasley was something else altogether!


	3. Ch 2: The Bet

"Seduction" by Desslok

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Chapter 2: The Bet

_----Flashback: Before the Final Battle----_

The three friends sat in their hide-out in Godric's Hollow, gathered close together in the dim light of a lantern. The remnants of Ron's birthday 'feast' lay spread out on the ground around them. If any of them regretted the necessity of celebrating in such a fashion, they did not speak of it. Instead, they passed around a bottle of old firewhiskey that they had found in the cellar under the ruins of the old manor house.

"What do you reckon will be the first thing you do when this is all over, Hermione?" Ron asked, glancing through the flickering shadows at his girlfriend. Even in the gloom, he could sense her discomfort.

"You know I dunlike to think about anythin beyond… the end…" Hermione replied slowly, slurring her words just a bit. Their initial festive mood had evolved into warm camaraderie and introspection with the help of the darkness and the firewhiskey.

Ron sighed and leaned back, hiccoughing softly. "We're going to win and we're going to have to do something when it's all over and I think it's nice to think about that sometimes. Besides, it's my birthday; you have to do what I say." He glanced over in time to see her eyebrow rise at that last comment.

"I do, do I?" she asked in a dangerous tone, her mind clearing quickly. Ron suspected that he had just set a precedent that he would come to regret, especially every September.

"Very well," she went on with a sigh, "I suppose that the very first thing I do will be to wrap my arms around the great prat that I've fallen in love with and hug and kiss him till he collapses in a heap."

A sudden burst of liquid sprayed the lantern as Harry sputtered and tried to breathe again. Ron laughed at his friend's predicament even as he reached out to take his girlfriend's hand in his own. Sometimes, it still felt odd to him, being together finally with his best friend, sharing such deep emotions for each other. At times like this, though, he couldn't imagine his life any other way or picture himself with anyone but her.

"If you're trying to encourage me for the last fight, I'm not sure that's the way to do it," Harry groaned, rolling his eyes as Ron and Hermione shared a quick kiss. He took another shot from the bottle and passed it to Ron. "And I certainly don't need to see that. At least wait till we turn out the lantern!"

"Well, at least you'll have some material for your next letter, Harry," Hermione replied primly, settling herself back in her place. "We know that you tell her everything that goes on with us."

Ron, having a bit more sympathy for his friend and recalling how he had felt watching Harry and Ginny snog all over the place during his last year at Hogwarts, decided to change the subject. "Ok, Harry. Your turn. Same question. What are you going to do when it's all over?"

"What about you, Ron?" Harry asked, trying to head off the question.

Hermione smiled in a way Harry found quite disturbing. "I think I've established what Ron will be doing, Harry," she replied on behalf of her blushing boyfriend.

"Yeah, right," Harry muttered, trying to think. Truthfully, he never had thought about what he'd do right afterwards. He had let himself dream, at times, of what his life might be like when it was all over. However, those dreams tended to focus on events much later on and generally involved lots of small children with unruly red hair. Right now, his head felt a bit fuzzy and he found it hard to focus.

"Come on then, mate," Ron encouraged. "Hermione always says we have to 'visualize success.' Let's give it a go."

Harry sighed in resignation. "Ok, well, I suppose the first thing I'd do would be to wake up in the infirmary and put my glasses on." He grinned innocently, but his friends did not seem amused. "What? Isn't that what always happens?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks that clearly said that he had a good point. "Okay then, how about first thing after you leave the infirmary?" Ron said.

"I guess I'd go back to the Burrow for the party with your family and all our friends," Harry answered after some consideration.

"Back to my sister's room in the Burrow for your own private 'party' is more like it," Ron laughed. "The way I see it, we'll probably have to peel her off of your hospital bed with a crowbar just to get you out of there in the first place!"

"Ron!" Hermione admonished. He looked at her expectantly while the wheels turned in her head. "Well… I suppose that is rather plausible," she reluctantly admitted.

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to decide whether or not he should be offended and if so, on whose behalf, his or Ginny's.

"Oh come on, mate," Ron said, "we know why you 'broke up' with her, but we all know you love her and she loves you and about ten seconds after Voldy bites it, the two of you will be attached at the lips worse than…"

"Worse than you and Lavender used to be?" Harry asked sardonically, glancing over quickly at Hermione. He thought it a very good sign that, instead of being upset, she laughed loudly, patted her flustered boyfriend on the knee, and said, "Oh, it's okay, 'My Sweetheart'."

Ron turned as red as the flames flickering in the lantern. "Nice one, Potter," he admitted, "but you're still dodging the question."

During the tumult, Harry had found time to consider his response. "I just think that I'd like to take things slowly. If there is anyone who deserves a long courtship and lots of attention, it is certainly Ginny." Harry shook his head sadly. "I can't believe it took me all those years to figure out what was right in front of me all along."

"Take things slowly?" Ron asked. "Oh, I get it. You'll wait an hour or two before snogging her senseless then."

"I can wait longer than an hour!" Harry replied indignantly. "Unlike some of us here, I can exhibit some self-control."

Ron snorted in laughter. "Ok, mate, I'll tell you what, why don't we make it interesting." Ron's sudden similarity to his twin brothers sent a sharp shock through Harry. "I bet you that you'll be snogging my sister within… within…" Ron paused to consider what a fair length of time would be. "The two of you will be all over each other within a day. Twenty four hours, my friend."

"I have no intention of jumping all over Ginny like some hormone-addled… Weasley boy… right after!" Harry insisted. "I'm going to take my time and do things right."

"Harry, I don't really think you'll make it twenty-four minutes, but I'm willing to bet on twenty-four hours. If you're so sure, then you'll be willing to put a little something on the line." Ron gave Harry a nasty smile. "Something like your Firebolt, maybe?"

Harry's eyes widened. He had no intention of backing down, but his Firebolt? "S-Sirius gave that me," Harry replied quietly. The room fell quiet. Finally, Ron broke the silence.

"Well, not forever, how about you just lend it to me for six months?" he suggested.

"Six months without my Firebolt?" Harry replied.

"Yep, and no buying a fancier one either. You get to use one from the broomshed!" Ron laughed.

"And what happens when I win? What do I get?" His eyes narrowed as he tried to think of something equivalent he could ask from Ron. Suddenly, it came to him. Something Ron loved, that could be replaced, but only with some 'difficulty.' Harry chuckled to himself imagining the conversation where Ron would ask Hermione to help him get another…

"Your autographed picture of Victor Krum," Harry announced. Hermione snickered, understanding immediately the depth of Harry's deviousness. Ron startled for a moment, but quickly covered up.

"Doesn't matter really, since there's no way I'm losing this bet," Ron replied. He deliberately kept his eyes away from Hermione. "You'll see. No way will you be able to keep your hands off of her after all this time."

"I think I can control myself for one day," Harry scoffed. Inwardly, though, he began to have some doubts. He knew that if Ginny walked in the door right now, it would take every ounce of willpower to stop himself from leaping into her arms. Still, he did want to take things slowly. He didn't think it would be very gentlemanly to jump her after being away from her for so long, at his own insistence no less. Harry was certain that Ginny understood the need for them to be apart, to put their relationship on hold, but he also knew that she was not thrilled with the situation. Truthfully, neither was he.

"If you two are done drowning in your whiskey and you testosterone, we should probably get some sleep. It's nice to think about what will happen when we win, but we still have a lot of work to do between now and then," Hermione reminded them. She firmly took the bottle from Ron's hands and replaced the cork.

"Yes, Miss Granger," Ron and Harry replied in unison, as they always did when she took that tone with them.

Hermione rolled her eyes skyward in the way that women have for all eternity when confronted with the idiocy of the male of the species. "Good night, and happy birthday, Ron," she said, tucking herself into her cot.

As Ron reached forward to extinguish the lantern, he heard Harry whisper, "We are going to win, aren't we Ron?"

"It's my birthday, mate," Ron replied gently, "and what I say goes. No way we can lose, especially now that I've got that Firebolt waiting for me on the other side."

Harry laughed, reassured as always by his friend. "Thanks, mate. Happy birthday."

Ron smiled to himself and shut out the light.


End file.
